There are plenty of gigs on Craigslist, Upwork, and similar sites. Trying out some of the gigs they list offers some memorable and cringe-worthy moments.

I once worked as a mystery shopper. It was a relatively easy gig, although you needed to remember a lot of detail to get it done right. My first task was to call a popular fast food joint at midnight, and have specific items delivered to the house. If completed successfully, the company would pay me $7, plus reimbursement for the food I ordered. Sadly, I didn’t get paid for that gig. Why? I forgot to shine a flashlight on the delivery guy and write down his name.

Some of the most memorable gigs I’ve had involved working as a translator. It’s a gig that pays well, but the opportunities are hard to find. I found one of these ads on Craigslist. The guy who posted the ad was looking for a person to translate documents from English to two local languages. Plus, he needed someone to act as the narrator for the video he was producing. The translated documents would act as the script for the video. We had to shoot three videos, and we had to complete them in a single day.

“Being able to write and speak English fluently, is not a unique skill, it’s a necessity.”

Australians are avid story tellers. A tradition handed to us by the original owners of our land. Stories were used by aboriginals to convey lessons in morals, ethics, mythology, and the very essence of human nature. So in the vein of Australian tradition, allow me to share with you a story of my own.

School was coming to a close, and it was time to grow up and pick a path. After 13 years of hitting the books (some people don’t even get that much time in prison for murder), my brain was fried. I needed a break before entering university, so I went and sought adventure on the high seas. I stepped forward and enlisted in the Royal Australian Navy. After passing the aptitude test with flying colours, I qualified for jobs across all three service branches (army, air force and navy), and it was recommended that I become an officer. So, did I assume the mantle and serve Queen and Country? No… I failed the medical. My flat feet and my history with epilepsy disqualified me from military service. Abandoned and forsaken, I decided to serve my country in a different way. I would provide care to those who are unable to care for themselves. I would become an aged care worker.

I enrolled in a local college to get the required certificate to gain employment. A mere 8 months later, I was “qualified” to look after the elderly. I was ready.

“This is an industry with a shortage of skilled workers” they said,

“You will ALWAYS have a job” they said

They lied.

“They actively and deliberately made every effort to keep male employees to a minimum. I have been outright rejected from potential employment for being male, even going so far as saying it straight to my face”

It seems that consideration for whether or not I’ve had a raw deal in life is part of my daily routine. I say routine, but the only aspect of my day which is routine is that I wake up. Usually between 11am and midday, unless there’s something important to wake up early for, but there seldom is.

‘Most likely to be a millionaire’ was the certificate I received on the last day of comprehensive school, and given my enterprising nature at the time, I took it to heart. Almost ten years on, and I’m writing this in my small corner of the spare room at my mother’s house. That’s not to say I haven’t tried to spread my proverbial wings.

I registered my first company at the age of sixteen, and can even claim to having rented offices in Cardiff for a few months. I was determined to achieve millionaire status. To prove to everyone in school that they were right to nominate me for that piece of glossy A4 paper. The only minute detail that led to my ultimate downfall, not once, not twice, but countless times over the last decade, has been my utter financial irresponsibility. As soon as any sort of money appeared, I was overwhelmed by the tangible, physical, shiny, capitalistically sculpted options. I wanted to show off, so I did, and by doing so I formed friendships that otherwise would not have existed. They do not exist now. In fact, the most important ties I have are with people who were there long before my narcissistic and ultimately disastrous entry into the real world.

“I am my own worst enemy. A self-aware, self-saboteur, attempting to fulfill a rich and meaningful life without conforming to the socially accepted work ethic.”

When I finished university last year, I had it in my mind that I wanted to move to the West coast of Ireland and write a novel whilst living off social welfare, which is about 200 euro a week. I hadn’t thought through the logistics at all, but that’s what I wanted.

As it went, I stayed in Greystones and wrote from there all summer. It was quite nice: I was living at my family home, getting by on the social welfare I’d been granted, sitting in the garden, smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee all day. I took the occasional break to terrorize my poor mother or to walk the dogs, but otherwise I was writing.

I was more or less content doing this for a few months, but I slowly began to realize, at the age of 25, I needed a longer-term plan. I took a CELTA in Dublin where I learnt how to teach English. I had no idea what I was doing initially; I hated public speaking. In university I would tremble, my hands vibrating as I gave presentations. So when it came to teaching English, I was, at least initially, terrified of the idea. After a month of the course, I became a decent teacher and I quite enjoyed it. This would be my longer-term plan.

“I lost count of how many times I was told “this is all completely legal,” despite being told to say I’m a volunteer, not a paid teacher.”

That was the dream: ‘Work hard at school and you can be whatever you want to be.’

So that is exactly what I did, or tried to do.

I was brought up as part of the pampered generation. We were told we could do a job we love when we grew up. Whatever made us happy. We were told being happy wasn’t just possible, but to be pursued as a necessity. My mam’s generation never worried about this. They took whatever work was going and lived for the weekend. Not us Millenials though. We’re better than that.

I got a good degree in a subject I loved, and for a couple of years I worked as a full time museum educator. I was a square peg in a square hole. I was sharing a love of history, poetry, art, and drama with big groups of kids. Now that might not be everyone’s idea of fun, but to me it was a thrilling and wonderful privilege. The salary wasn’t great, but the bills got paid. The opportunity for training or advancement was rare, but nevermind. Dream come true. Done.

Well, nearly.

“I’m starting to wonder if I need to consider a career change. Perhaps we can’t all earn a crust doing something we love.”

An email arrived today. It was from one of the companies I applied to write for several weeks back. As the final step of the application, I had to send a picture of me carrying my college degree. I quickly checked the company’s website again. Nowhere did it say they needed a college graduate to write essays. Nevertheless, I sent a reply, politely asking them if I could send other documents to prove my writing skills-something other than a picture of a non-existent college degree. I’d already submitted a sample article on a topic of their choice. Wasn’t that enough to show them I could write?

What were the rates they were offering, you might ask? Depending on the level of difficulty and time constraints, I would get somewhere between $5 and $15 per page. Needless to say, there are far worse rates. Try scanning sites such as Upwork or Craigslist, and you’ll find employers offering a mere $1-$1.50 for a 500-word article. It’s a quick way to earn feedback, and once you get feedback, you can get better-paying clients. At least that’s how the logic goes.

“Competitive rates in the industry” equates to around $3.50-$5.00 a page. I used to work part time for a news aggregate site, churning out a minimum of three 450-word articles a day. Working part-time meant I got paid the lower end of that range. Each report had to include links to credible sources, videos, images, Tweets, and other media that would make it more ‘interesting’ for readers. That company went belly up this year. They still owe me $300 in wages and bonuses.

“The system had taken note of my IP address, and said that I was applying from a country that did not have English as a first language. I was no longer allowed to proceed with the application process. That was a new low. I had just been dumped by a computer.”

I’m doing my makeup and hair, finding smartish clothes, brushing off the worst of the cat fluff, and hoping that someone will fall ill today. No one specific. And not badly. Just sick enough not to be able to work.

I know. What a cow, eh?

The reason, not that it’s a good one, is that I’m really underemployed, and if someone at my one-day-a-week job takes ill, then I might get a call to go in and cover. It’s happened once or twice before. So I get ready, and I check for the umpteenth time that my phone is charged, and the sound is up full. And I wait for a call, which may or may not come.

“I tend to divide the day into combing the jobs pages online, filling in applications, and trying to ignore every nagging thought.”

“Wow, blimey, well I no longer feel fancy smanchy. I’ve now been boiled down to a British person, and that is basically it. Bye bye European Union.”

Being under the EU had a lovely ring to it. This umbrella term made us, as Brits, appear to have the finesse, charm, and culture other European countries have, such as France, Italy, Greece, and Spain, etc. I feel with the latest election results of BREXIT or British Exit, we’ve washed that persona clean. In my opinion, I think we made a huge mistake voting out of the EU.

It was exotic “Sounding” to declare you lived in Europe.

I love being English, and so proud of the country I was born and raised in. However, now that we’re no longer EU citizens, will we still attract as many visitors? Will it be harder for us to fly out to European countries, passport wise, after these new changes are implemented? Only time will tell.

The majority who voted to leave the EU perhaps did not think about such questions. Just wanting England to be British, and that’s that.

“Then I picture little Britain; standing all on it’s todd, (all alone) watching the other kids play, standing by the wall, lonely, because none of the other countries want to play with it.”

Underemployment Around the Globe

Underemployment isn't isolated to the United States. It's truly an international problem. India, Canada, Australia, Scotland, The U.K, and the Philippines are just some of the other nations struggling with underemployment on a massive scale.

The reasons for chronic underemployment in the U.S are similar for other countries. High student loan debt, a surplus of low skilled service jobs; too few full time jobs or well paying skilled jobs. Underemployment needs international attention and solutions. With that in mind, we created this section to give international voices a place to be heard. We hope you enjoy what they have to say.

If you like what we do, buying our new book goes a long way towards funding the site. Plus, the book is really funny, and we think you’ll like it.